Proudest Moments
by lazaefair
Summary: Snapshots into the thoughts of the Breakfast Club members during their best, most lovingly recalled moments.
1. Athlete

_This is a one-shot, hopefully to become one in a series of five. Reviews, y'all!_

_All standard disclaimers apply._

* * *

Can you feel it? Can you feel it, Larry?

This is my pain. This is my pain, _right here_.

So it hurts. So what?

You damn well better deal with it. Because I deal with it every. Fucking. Day.

And you don't. See, that's why you're here, and I'm here, and I will make you feel every fucking second of it, the same way it pokes and prods and kicks and screams in my ear every day.

Every moment I am under his eye.

"_You wanna miss a match? You wanna blow your ride?"_

Yeah, I know it's not fair. I know you're innocent. I know you didn't do shit to deserve anything.

Well, guess what. Neither did I.

Hey, you really want to know what your sin is, what you did to get this? Why I'm punishing you?

Because you were born.

You were born into your family. And you, your dad, your mom, your siblings, they're not _my_ fucking family. That's your sin. Does you dad dominate your life? Huh, does he? Does your mom sink her fangs into you every time you so much as look funny at her? Does your sister, or your brother, or your fucking _cousins_ scorn you for being the shrimp of the family? For not living up to your father's glory days, your brothers' college achievements, your sister's genius? Was your fucking _grandfather_ a war hero? More importantly, does _he _rag on _you_ for not being a man, not being a true Clark?

Fucking Clarks. My All-American family, the stars, the heroes. We've got a fucking legacy, did you know that?

And you. You're, you're a nobody. I bet your dad doesn't push y—

"_Andrew, you've got to be number one! I won't tolerate any losers in this family...__your intensity is for shit! Win. Win! WIN—" _

Shut _up_, punk. I said shut up! You've got no call to be complaining.

Oh, does this hurt? Does it? ARE YOU WEAK ENOUGH TO CRY?

Yeah, you skinny, weak, little shrimp, don't you even pretend you're not going to run to your mother after this. Climb into her lap and sniffle all over her apron. And she's going to coo at you, and put bandaids on those little boo-boos, and tuck you into bed at night, and be all sweet and warm and caring...

God, I hate you. I hate you for not being me. I hate you for crying, for being weak, for being everything that's not me. I will beat your ass until you _know _what it's like to be me.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate y...I hate my old man—


	2. Criminal

_Second in the series of five proudest moments. WARNING: very strong language and violence. Read at your own risk._

_As always, review! Tell me if I'm doing something wrong with my angst._

_All standard disclaimers apply._

* * *

I remember the day I trashed a brand new classroom at Shermer High. It was the day after a particularly shitty night at the Bender household. But then, when isn't the Bender household particularly shitty?

_Stupid worthless _

The teacher screamed. She tried to restrain me—about as effective as a pussycat in front of a steamroller. Because, goddammit, I was in a rage and nobody could stop me.

_no good god_

Another desk, another notebook. Some kid wetting his pants. Silly fuck.

_damned freeloading _

I ripped all the pretty wallpaper down. Floating hearts and stars and rainbows—who the fuck cares about a dreamy never-never land? The Care Bears creep me out anyway.

_son of a bitch _

Slammed a jock against the wall. He tried to stop me...tried being the operative term.

_retarded big _

Hey, kid, I don't care about your nice clothes and pencils and perfect homework. Go crying home to your goddamned mother and hope to hell she's nothing like my mother. Got that?

_mouth know it _

Now get the hell out of my way.

_all asshole jerk You forgot ugly_

Well, hello, ladies. You like seeing this? You like seeing the fucking criminal on campus on a rampage? Is it more attractive than watching all those fucking athletes fuck each other over on the field? Can't get enough testosterone, huh? Does it turn you on?

_lazy and disrespectful Shut up_

And you, sir. Asshole. You can shove your authority up your goddamned ass.

_bitch Go fix me a turkey _

Besides, you're not the one with the switchblade, eh? I'm the criminal, I'm wild, I'm on the edge.

_pot pie What about _

Get it? Not. Afraid. To use. The knife.

_you Dad?_

Oh, shit. Was that a window? Not sure.

_Fuck you!_

Fuck, it hurts. Hey, kid, does this look like blood to you? Does it? Is there a lot of it?

_No, Dad, what about _

Not like it...matters. I'm just John Bender, the criminal. I don't count. I don't exist, and it certainly doesn't matter to any of you that I'm bleeding to death all over the lawn after jumping out a window. Fuck off.

_you? Fuck you!_

I said fuck off.

_No, Dad, what _

Jerks...

_about you?_

_Fuck you!_


End file.
